


Let's call the calling off off

by china_shop



Category: White Collar
Genre: Cookies, F/F, F/M, Fic, Multi, Prompt Fic, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 20:12:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/china_shop/pseuds/china_shop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cookies and crooning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's call the calling off off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abbylee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbylee/gifts).



"The best of the cookies had cinnamon and chocolate," said El, setting her purloined platter on top of the FBI files that were spread all over the coffee table. "But those all got eaten."

It was Thursday night, and Peter had brought Neal home to work, which was Peter's plausibly deniable way of inviting him to spend the night, only being Peter and Neal, they seemed to have got caught up in the case of the moment and actually been working when El arrived home from her charity auction. Neal hastily closed half a dozen file folders and slid onto the floor to make space for her on the couch, and she sat there with a grateful sigh and reached for a pecan crunch.

"You mean these are the leftovers." Neal pretended to be offended. "The rejects. The spurned, homeless cookies no one else deemed worthy."

Peter shook his head and snagged a vanilla square. "Only you could turn free cookies into a Greek tragedy."

"If it were a Greek tragedy, there'd be a chorus." Neal raised hopeful eyebrows at El, who grinned back.

"Not tonight," she said. "Tonight I'm putting my feet up—" She kicked off her pumps and swiveled so her stockinged feet were in Peter's lap and her hand could rest comfortably on Neal's shoulder. "—and resting my voice. I expect you two to entertain me."

"She wants us to sing for our supper," said Neal, elbowing Peter's shin.

"For our cookies," corrected Peter around a mouthful of crumbs. "I suppose it's only fair." He swallowed, lightly cleared his throat and crooned to El in his mellow baritone, " _The way he wears his hat, the way you bring me cookies, the mem'ry of all that, oh, they can't take that away from me._ "

El laughed, delighted, and blew him a kiss, but Neal turned and knelt, gazing up at Peter in astonishment. "You can sing! I didn't know you could sing."

"He's been practicing ever since June's dinner party, for fear someone would drag him into the spotlight," said El, ratting her husband out without a qualm.

"Do some more," demanded Neal.

Peter's eyes crinkled at the corners. "I only sing for cookies." 

"Deal." Neal twisted around to palm a gingersnap off the platter and made it reappear behind Peter's ear before presenting it to him with a flourish. "Something from _The Sound of Music_!"

"Those cookies are from El," Peter told him, pretending to frown. "You can't pay me with stolen cookies, scoundrel."

El burst out laughing. "Oh, honey, I stole them first."

Peter's eyes gleamed. "Leftovers don't count."

"Do you want any more?" Neal asked El. "You?" he asked Peter.

They both shook their heads.

"Then these are leftover leftovers," said Neal triumphantly. "Hence, not stealing. Your rules, G-man."

Peter rolled his eyes, warm with amusement and affection, and sang, " _You say loophole and I say oh no, you say wheeling-and-dealing and I say stealing, loophole, oh no, wheeling-and-dealing, stealing, let's call the whole thing off—_ "

Halfway through, Satchmo raised his head from his doggy bed and started singing along.

El hushed him through her giggles, laughing as much at Neal's dumbfounded expression as at Peter's performance. "He can sing," she said.

"He just can't scan," said Neal, looking vaguely pained.

Peter winked at El, and she wiggled her feet in his lap.

"The Gershwins are spinning in their graves right now," said Neal. He gave Peter a mock stern glare. "I know you can do better than that."

El laughed again, warm and home and loving them both so much she could burst, and she reached for another cookie.

 

END


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